


Graduate School: Adulthood's Greatest Scam

by CarpeDiaaamn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, AU-Grad School, Drabble Collection, Graduate School, Lance-centric, M/M, Morbid Humor, Other, Regret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-01-31 01:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12665292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarpeDiaaamn/pseuds/CarpeDiaaamn
Summary: A collection of vignette stories depicting the true lives of graduate students. Poor Lance never thought putting off the real world would have consequences.





	1. G(rad) school

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! As of right now, this group of stories isn't meant to have a very fluid plot, but then again, I never really plan that far ahead. Hopefully, I'll be able to update regularly, but we'll see! Anyway, here's my WIP window into graduate school life because literally no one asked! Enjoy!

“Grad school? You mean _rad_ school.” Lance started laughing heartily as Pidge simply stared from across the table. “Get it? Rad? Because we’re having a… Rad… Time. Grad. Rad… Pidge.”

Lance’s words started to sound more like a plea and his laughter started to die into more of a forced, soft chuckle. After one final puff of fake happiness, with eyes facing down to the table, the laughs turned to cries and his hands reached up to cradle his head. 

Pidge hummed under her breath. 

“Sad school.”


	2. Guess I'll die

A heavy sigh reigned down upon the room.

“You good, buddy?” Keith looked over his laptop to gaze at Lance, who honestly looked like he was in the midst of his own personal 4-game losing streak.

Lance followed up his sigh with a smaller sigh, pulling out his earbuds and laying them, defeated, atop his closed laptop. “I think… I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“Did you finish the—“

Standing up, Lance held up a hand, silently and solemnly bringing Keith to a stop. “I want to die, so I’ll try again in an hour.”

Keith let out a low hum of understanding as the taller male slumped his way to the couch. “Do you want me to wake you up?”

“No. I think the pressure will hit me soon and I’ll be motivated to finish.”

“If you say so.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lance opened his eyes and sat up on the couch. He dizzily glanced around the room before settling his eyes on Keith, still in the exact same position he left him in at the kitchen table. Said male looked up in the direction of the felt stare.

“Good morning.”

“No.” Lance laid back down. Perhaps this time the nap would turn into a coma for real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone follows NHL, hmu because I'm literally getting down on my thesis because of the Ducks' 4 game losing streak. #gradSchoolSadSchool


	3. Unreal Stress: Fuck a Friend

“…In conclusion, the data presented was shown to have high validity, and we believe our actionable insights are just.”

A round of polite applause resounded from the crowd. Lance continued to smile broadly, however pained. Keith opted to stand stoic, facing the audience.

“Thank you for your presentation. We will put this plan into motion as soon as possible.” The client the two men had been conducting research for shook their hands and walk off into the direction of their advisor. The remaining businessmen that accompanied their boss to the presentation were exiting their seats, sauntering slowly to the reception across the large room.

Lance finally let out the content of his lungs he didn’t realize he had been holding. “I can’t believe that went well.”

“I’m so tense, I want to die.”

“Lighten up, Keith. It’s over.” Lance laughed while clapping his colleague on the back. “Was it really that bad? This was just a student project.”

“With real clients.” Keith’s face refused to drop his grimace as he stared over at the reception. “I really don’t want to network after almost dying.”

“Jeez, you really are tense.” Lance hadn’t removed his hand from Keith’s back from earlier. The tension he carried would make a stretched rubber band feel like it wasn’t trying hard enough. “Do you want to fuck?”

Keith’s grimace broke to be replaced by a mortified stare—eyes open, jaw to the ground. He spun so quickly towards Lance that both almost fell over.

Lance, collecting his cool rather quickly, spoke easily. “We’re both adults and you’re tense. I’m just saying I know how to help you. Either way, it’s time to network.” He winked, straightened his tie, then proceeded towards the reception. “See you there.”

Keith stood still, shock riddling his face and stance. It took a solid minute to compose himself before he, too, walked over to the reception. “Nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After being around the same people in a stressful environment all the time, Ima be honest that these are real MBA feels.


	4. Bedtime

“I think we have a problem.”

Keith waivered slightly besides Lance on his couch, glass of wine grasped lazily in his hand. “No, no. It’s definitely a solution.”

The shorter male slumped against the taller after his words. Lance couldn’t help but laugh. “We—we have a paper due, dude.”

Keith joined in on his laugh, although it could almost be characterized as a giggle. “Okay, but like… Or. We can just wake up and do it. Look. There’s like… an entire glass left in this bottle, Lance.”

“But we’ve already drank two—“

“Shh…” Keith pushed himself on top of the protesting man, slender finger pressed to his lips. He brought his face down close to the other’s. “We have time. Drink with me. Forget with me.”

“Kei—“

Before Lance could finish, Keith’s lips were on his. He would be lying if he said he ignored the grind he fashionably threw in. “What do you want to do? The essays? More wine? Go to my bed?”

“Keith—“ Lance whined, but he was cut off again by a persistent pair of lips. “What did you have in mind in bed?”

Keith smirked on top if him. “Well… I was thinking…”

He traced his fingers lazily over Lance’s chest as the latter wrapped his arms around a hoodie-clad waist. Keith continued, “We change in to something more comfortable and… We go the fuck to sleep.”

“That…” Lance searched Keith’s face for any sign of joking, detecting none. “…Sounds amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's going to bed at 10 because she can't take it anymore? Me. It's me. I'm so damn tired, good night.


	5. Bags on Bags on Bags

“Are you going to sleep?” Hunk’s muffled voice came through thin walls more clearly than it really should have.

“Yeah.” The walls, again, failed to hide Pidge’s exhausted tone.

Lance sat upright on the couch after just laying down less than a minute ago. “No, no, no.”

“Okay, I’ll move to the living room!”

Lance sprang up and nearly sprinted to the kitchen table where all of his study materials sat, unattended. 

“You don’t have to. I can sleep through anything, really.”

“No, no. It’s okay!”

Lance grimaced at the happiness coating Hunk’s thoughtful words. Don’t get him wrong, Lance loved his roommates to death—they were his best friends. But really, when he was tired and frustrated, he was a certified piece of shit and he knew it. Hunk on the other hand, bless his soul, would never let his smile or pure optimism waiver, no matter how dismal his situation. And Lance _hated_ it. He had a research paper due the next day and if he heard Hunk utter even just _one_ more time that “You got this!” or “You’ll do great,” he was going to be down a friend. All he wanted to do was take a nap but now, to avoid conversation, he reluctantly left his beloved couch to opt for the cold, hard table.

The bedroom door opened behind the lanky grad student. He heard the door close and Hunk’s heavy footsteps walk directly towards his tragically abandoned couch. Fighting the urge to be a complete asshole, Lance looked up to acknowledge his best friend. Hunk returned the look with an over-the-top smile and two thumbs up.

Lance could feel a new tier of bags forming under his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I s2g if my roommate tries to make me feel better about my thesis ONE more time I'm going to lose it. Just let me stew alone in my sleepless suffering.


	6. Syllabus Week and Panic

“What… The _fuck?_ ”

Hunk turned around at his desk towards the sudden noise.

“ _What the fuck?_ ”

Hunk stared at Lance in anticipation before finally addressing the outburst. “Something wrong, dude?”

“ _Why—_ ” Lance, clearly exasperated, turned dramatically away from his own desk towards his roommate so he could fully commit to his rant. “—the fuck are all of these syllabi so damn ambiguous? What the fuck does a session mean? A single course? A whole class? And where the fuck is the thesis reader form? It’s not on the website! Am I supposed to draft it myself? What am I—a scribe? Why am I _paying_ to be a scribe? And why won’t anyone return my emails? Do the professors just want to see what I’ll do without direction? I’ll lose my mind, that’s what!”

“Whoa, calm down, Lance.” The larger male put up his hands defensively in front of him. To be fair, though, Lance had raised his voice high enough that the entire apartment complex could tell what’s on his syllabi (and what’s not). His wildly gesturing arms didn’t make Hunk feel any less threatened, either. “First of all, I have no idea what you’re talking about—“

“Neither do I!” Lance threw up his arms in rage before huffing and turning back to his desk. He let out an overdramatic groan before slamming his head down, startling his roommate.

“Lance!”

“I’m okay.” His words, though barely audible, were riddled with defeat.

“It’s only been three days of the semester.”

Lance didn’t pick up his head. Instead, he loudly sobbed into his desk.

Hunk stared at the mess of a man sitting in front of him before turning, blank face, back to his own desk, already strewn with papers and reminders. Bringing his hands slowly up to cradle his face, his own soft sobs filled the empty space between Lance’s melodramatic ones.

In that moment they both knew it was going to be a long semester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A snapshot of my mental breakdown 10 minutes ago. Stay in school, kids. And remember, your own mentor has more fun things to do than email you back within the week~


End file.
